


Black Friday

by Bourneblack



Series: Open for Business [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (some is off screen), Aftercare, Anal Gaping, Anal Sex, Ass Play, BDSM, BDSM Scene, Car Sex, Consensual Somnophilia, Dom Bucky Barnes, Dom Steve Rogers, Don't Try This At Home, I feel dirty, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Multi, Objectification, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sequel, Spitroasting, Sub Tony Stark, Subspace, a bit of fisting, as in, copious amounts of aftercare, don't look that far into it, everyone's happy and no one is dust, just enjoy the porn, mild risk of public exposure, not sure what universe it is, oh baby, open for business
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 09:48:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21318184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bourneblack/pseuds/Bourneblack
Summary: "Tony feels truly and properly used. But not in the sense that he’s being taken advantage of then tossed aside. No, it’s more like he’s someone’s favorite sweater, worn too often, washed too much, mended and broken and mended again, but only providing more comfort, and sharing more love as time goes on."ORTony stays open for 36 hours.(Prequel not necessary, but helps a bit)This story is only authorized to be posted on archiveofourown unless my express permission has been given otherwise. If you are NOT reading this story on archiveofourown.org, it has been stolen from me. If you are reading this story on ANY app, it has been stolen from me. If you find this work on another site or app, please report it to me at bourneblack.tumblr.com. In no way should you be paying for this work, nor should you be seeing ads.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: Open for Business [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1536808
Comments: 48
Kudos: 981





	Black Friday

**Author's Note:**

> two glass of wine and a 8 hour plane ride and this was born. i'm so sorry.
> 
> Warnings: little bit of _risk_ of public exposure, consensual somnophilia (everything's consensual), an unrealistic amount of sex.

“Alright, let’s go over everything one last time, to make sure things are airtight,” Steve says, flipping back through the contract to the start of the new addendum they’d been drafting up for the last hour.

Tony cracks his neck and nods, taking a sip of water.

Bucky’s leans back on the back two legs of the dining room chair, groaning and lifting his arms above his head.

Tony gives him a look, and Bucky drops the front two legs back to the ground and gives him a small, sheepish smile. Tony rolls his eyes.

Steve’s all business when he speaks, addressing Tony directly. “You will be allotted four bathroom breaks, no more than 15 minutes long. Play is suspended in the bathroom, but the scene is not broken. _ But, _if you are sitting on the toilet for longer than that, it will be considered a safeword, and the scene will end.”

“Mostly ‘cuz if you’re in the bathroom, your either tryin’ to run away from the scene, or you got the runs. No matter which, neither of us is gonna want to fuck you,” Bucky tacks on.

Steve huffs out a laugh. “Sure.”

“Agreed, next?” Tony says.

“Same rules of our original contract are still in place, except for two new rules.” Steve continues. “First, for the nonverbal clause. If you become nonverbal during the scene, it’s up to me, and only me, to decide if we get to continue. I have the right to suspend play right then and there for that reason if I feel things have gone too far, no question.”

“Agreed,” Bucky and Tony say.

Steve looks up and meets Tony’s eyes, forces Tony to meet them back.

“Second, if there is a callout, you will stay home.”

Tony clenches his teeth. This is the reason why the negotiation had taken an hour, a back and forth with Steve over this very idea. During regular ‘business hours’ Tony is perfectly capable of battle. It had taken a thorough convincing of Steve, but Steve finally relented over the idea that they aren’t the only Avengers whofuck, and that it’s bound to happen that someone else has had coitus interruptus due to an ill-timed Doombot raid.

But this is different. This is Tony’s fantasy, which started with the not-so-innocent comment by Bucky that came up after Tony had been spit-roasted three separate times over the side of the couch during a long, memorable sex session.

‘I wonder how long you could last?’ Bucky had said right before passing out on the bed with Tony in his arms, and while Tony’s mind was still in subspace, the idea of ‘how long’ still took root in his subconscious.

He brought it up the next day, but Steve had outright refused the idea of Tony offering himself up for ‘as long as he could.’ In hindsight, it did make sense. Steve and Bucky both know of Tony’s penchant for pushing the limit passed reason just for the sake of saying he could (one incident about ice and the Mark II had come to light), and therefore didn’t trust Tony’s ability to know when enough is enough. Tony argued back he’d grown since then, and that he took a lot less risks now. Maybe because he knows if he gets hurt, people who love him would get hurt, too.

But then came the realities of Tony’s mental state. Tony had never been ‘open’ for longer than a few hours before Steve and/or Bucky had found their way to him, and historically, he’d not stayed ‘open’ for much longer afterwards. Whatever subspace he finds himself in, no one is quite sure what will happen after an extended period of time in it, and nobody knows if Tony will be capable of handling a callout. It’s not a risk Steve is willing to take. 

They argued, and debated, and fought a little then fucked it out, and finally came up with a solution: 36 hours of business time, at Steve and Bucky’s discretion, and with everything planned out by Steve and Bucky beforehand. Thus was born the “Black Friday” contract addendum.

Which brings them back to now, the one new rule that Steve insists on that Tony hates the most, but understands the reason for. Bucky looks between the two of them but keeps quiet, knowing it’s a conversation that the Avenger’s co-leaders need to have.

“Fine,” Tony finally relents, and Steve nods, and Bucky smiles.

“Any blood, cramping, injury stomachache…”

Tony waves his hand in the air. “We stop right away, got it.”

“B Team is on standby at the Tower in case of emergency,” Steve says. “They think we’re, uh, on vacation.”

Bucky laughs, “You telling me you didn’t say we’re havin’ a fuck fest at the compound, Stevie?”

Steve clears his throat. “It didn’t come up organically,” he says.

Bucky snorts.

“Lastly, and most importantly,” Steve says with a note of finality to his voice, “we love you.”

“Sap,” Tony mutters into his glass. He smiles.

“Don’t you forget it,” Bucky warns.

“I love you too.” Tony rolls his eyes. “Anything else?”

Steve and Bucky share a look, then grin, sharp.

“Doors open at 8 AM, babe,” Bucky says.

Tony wakes up alone.

This isn’t all together unusual – Steve and Bucky typically need less sleep, and nights when they fall into bed together are usually mornings where they wake up apart.

So today, Tony wakes up alone. It’s seven AM, the weather is sunny and 65 degrees, and, according to JARVIS, he has a surprisingly empty schedule.

_ “You have two hours at the gym this morning, and a conference call at two PM.” _JARVIS recites as Tony makes his way to the window, looking out into the forest that surrounds the compound. He cracks his shoulder, stretching his arms above his head.

“_ I don’t think I’ve seen you have _ less _ work on your schedule in my lifetime, sir.” _

Tony feels a shiver go up his spine and settle into his stomach. “I’m on vacation, J,” Tony says.

_ “It’s about time, sir.” _

“And I’m open for business from 8 AM today to 8 PM tomorrow.”

_ “Very well, sir.” _

Tony swallows around his dry throat. “Guess it’s time to hit the gym.”

Despite knowing what’s going to happen, despite knowing what _ could _happen at any moment at any time, it’s only so long that Tony can keep his mind on what he’s agreed to until he’s suitably distracted by something else.

He’s halfway through a breakfast of protein pancakes and coffee before his mind is already drifting over to a snafu with nanoparticle suit’s inability to assemble properly. He’s distracted enough to be late to the gym, but with the rare pleasure of a free schedule, he actually doesn’t mind.

_ Guess this is what they mean by a stay-cation _, Tony thinks. It’s eerily quiet in the compound with everyone gone, and Tony tries not miss the usual chaos that fills the halls - of Thor’s voice booming as he regales the team with a tale of him finding a new cupcake shop, of Clint’s surprisingly feminine scream when Sam finally catches up to him for shooting his forehead with Nerf darts several times throughout the day. The gym is actually clean for once when he makes it there: no arrows embedded in concrete, no random webs hanging from the corners, hell, they’d somehow even got Wanda’s burn marks out the ceiling. Damn, that’s a good cleaning crew.

He makes his way past the sparring ring to the locker room, where he gets changed into dark gray sweats that belongs to one of his boyfriends, a jockstrap that ‘straight as an arrow’ Rhodey doesn’t understand why he still has, and a long sleeve workout shirt that definitely belongs to him given how tight it fits.

He heads to the equipment room and mounts a bike.

_ “Music selection for today, sir?” _JARVIS says as Tony begins to pedal.

“Nostalgia me up, baby.”

_ “So, Madonna, sir?” _

“Obviously. And if you play anything after 1990 I will dismantle your hardware and give you to that space raccoon,” Tony says as he revs up on the bike.

_ “I wouldn’t dream of it, sir.” _

Tony may be the oldest one on the team, but that just means he has to work twice as hard to be in the same level a shape. Yeah, maybe he has a suit that does some of the work for him, but he doesn’t have a serum, or an alter ego, or weird red space powers to make him strong. It’s just him operating a tin can in the middle of the sky. So when he works out, he works out hard.

He bikes until he sets a new personal speed best and lets out a victorious shout to the empty room.

“You see that JARVIS?” Tony says as his dismounts with wobbling legs.

_ “Very impressive, sir. Shall I call the Tour de France to let them know a spot in the race should be left open for you?” _

“Oh fuck you,” Tony snarks. “And yes, yes you should. About time we get a sports sponsorship, we’re the Avengers for fuck’s sake.”

Tony wipes the sweat off his forehead and takes a long drink, and regrets wearing sweats as he makes his way to the weight rack.

“Make me a workout plan, J,” Tony says as a song about virginity begins to play. “Triceps and chest.”

_ “Yes, sir.” _

He starts on the bench press. JARVIS has picked high weight-low rep today, so he’s straining from the get-go. But he thinks about Avengers, about the people that rely on him, and how he has to be strong enough to stand up to their enemies, and he grits his teeth and keeps going.

Tony fights his way through six reps before he seriously feels the strain. He straightens his arms on the seventh, then brings down the bar for the eighth. He feels his arms start to shake with the effort, but he knows if he pushes through he can do it, if he gives just a little more—

Suddenly, Tony pushes the bar up like it’s lighter than air. “Wha…?” He gasps. The bar leaves his hand, and Tony reaches for it instinctively, clawing at the air until he realizes what happened.

Tony blinks up stupidly at Steve, who’s currently putting the bar down on the floor below him, using just one hand. Tony’s still trying to catch his breath, and doesn’t get more than a second to think before Steve leans over, grabs his torso, and flips him, making Tony land on his stomach on the bench with a ‘oomph.’

“Fuck,” Tony swears, then he gasps as his chest is lifted. Tony scrambles to put his arms underneath him, holding himself up with slightly shaking arms. He’s still reeling, still catching his breath and so has little time to process the massive bulge in Steve’s sky blue basketball shorts before its smashed against his face, the thick heavy line of his cock pressing a line from Tony’s mouth to the top of his cheek.

Tony makes a muffled noise into the fabric as Steve starts thrusting his hips lazily, with no real direction, rubbing his cock all over Tony’s face, Tony’s tongue starting wet the fabric.

Tony jumps slightly as two large hands squeeze his ass tight, then Tony rolls his eyes up and whines as Steve _ rips his pants _, tearing a hole right down the seam of his sweats. Steve pulls the the sweats apart wider and wider until the rip goes all the way up Tony’sass, and down the front so much his jock-covered dick is pressed against the table.

Tony nuzzles Steve’s clothed dick absently, feeling all his perceived inadequacies start to melt away. He hears the click of a bottle, then feels _ way _ too much thick, cold lube run down his ass and soak into what’s left of his sweats. Steve bends over, and Tony closes his eyes and starts to mouth Steve’s cock as Steve traces a finger down his crack. It presses into his hole, digging in all the way to the palm, and Tony lifts his hips as much as he can to give Stevebetter access.

He starts pushing his hips back into Steve’s finger instinctively, trying to get it to jab at his prostate. He feels his dick harden underneath him, and searches for more stimulation from the inside.

“Awful lotta moving for a toy,” Steve comments.

Tony freezes. Steve doesn’t; he starts prepping with two fingers instead of one, but Tony takes the words for what they are—a reminder.

Steve gets to three fingers, and Tony remains dutifully still, spit soaking the fabric in his mouth. Steve’s stretching him clinically, efficiently preparing his hole for the cock that’s being thrust against his face. Hell, prepping him for the whole fucking _ day. _

And as he lies there, his own pants torn to pieces for easy access, his workout interrupted and his mouth licking cotton, he remembers who he is. Remembers _ what _ he is for the next 36 hours. A thing to be _ used. _

He relaxes and lets his mouth fall open, doing his best to give Steve what he needs.

Steve scratches his fingers through Tony’s hair for three seconds, offering him praise for remembering his role. He then backs away, and Tony has a brief image of soaking wet fabric before Steve drops his shorts to reveal himself, hard and red and thick.

He walks to the back of the bench. Tony doesn’t follow him with his eyes, just keeps them lidded and facing forward, even as he feels Steve’s bare cock start to rub against the crease of his ass.

He lifts Tony hips, and Tony works himself to his hands and knees. He sighs when Steve pushes, fucking in with short, fast strokes until he’s fully seated. Giving no time for adjustment, he fucks Tony hungrily, hard and fast, his hips slapping wetly against Tony’s pelvis, the ripped fabric fluttering with every movement.

“Fuck… that’s good,” Steve moans above Tony’s head, and despite the lack of stimulation of his dick, he feels himself begin to harden at the idea that his ass is exactly what Steve needs, and it’s the only ass that Steve wants.

Tony has no other expectations: no requirements to fulfill or deadlines to chase or lives to save or decisions to be made that affect billions, just something right here, right now, that he can give, time and time again, and know that it was going to be appreciated.

“Ah! Ah, _ shit…,” _Steve’s hips stutter off rhythm several times as he comes, and Tony swears he can feel it inside of him, filling him up. Steve slides in and out slowly for a few more thrusts, then pulls out with a sigh of content.

Tony gasps at the emptiness, and stays in position, even as Steve grabs his shorts and pulls them back on and exits the gym through the locker room.

And Tony’s left feeling lightheaded, ass fucked open and stuffed full of come, lube slathered over his ass and soaking in the bench below, and tongue tasting like cloth.

Tony eventually gets his legs under him and hobbles to the locker room. He’s given up on the rest of his workout; it’s supposed to be his day off anyways, he should be relaxing. He drops the ruined sweats to the ground and struggles out of the shirt, and leans against the locker wall for a moment with his eyes shut, taking a few deep breaths.

Eventually he collects himself, and through the fog he manages to get himself to the showers. His legs are sore from the bike, and he’s certainly sweating up a storm, and the feeling of hot water against his muscles were the perfect answer to both of those problems.

He hums a song about ‘taking you there’ as he turns on the water to the highest pressure in can go. He stands for a moment, letting himself absorb the steam for a little, before ducking underneath and rinsing himself from head to toe.

He shampoos, then while the conditioner sits he washes himself off, and feels a shiver as he feels Steve’s cum dripping down his thigh. He gets distracted, pressing a finger inside of himself and jutting his hips out, stroking his cock in time with the song in his head as he rocks back and forth between his two hands.

He blames the sound of the shower and his distraction with his own dick for the reason he didn’t hear Bucky’s foot falls until he was right behind him, but he certainly feels it when a sturdy metal hand grabs the flesh of his ass, and the other one grabs the wrist of the hand digging for his prostate.

Tony shouts as Bucky pulls his finger from his ass, then quickly reaches over to steady himself on the shower wall as he’s bent over, ass on display. Tony feels two fingers against his asshole but they don’t push in far, only enough for that thumb and forefinger to _ spread _him, ass gaping wide.

“How the hell did Steve get here first?” Bucky gripes, sounding petulant and annoyed.

Tony’s face burns.

Bucky pushes the fingers in deep and Tony whimpers, water beating down on his neck and over his arched back.

“Fuck it, sloppy seconds are hot too,” Bucky says, then Tony feels as the thick head of his cock lines itself up.

Tony can’t help but cry out when Bucky penetrates him. He has one hand in between Tony’s shoulder blades, bending him over until he’s forced to reposition himself, and the other one is buried in his hair, pulling his head back until he can see part of the ceiling.

“Christ, that’s a nice ass,” Bucky moans, then begins to piston his hips, this time driving his cock straight into Tony’s prostate.

Bucky fucks him hard - a knee shaking, hair raising _ hard, _driving home with so much force Tony can feel it in his teeth, feel his eyes water as the hot spray rains down on him from above, as his ass is spread open wider and wider by Bucky’s thick cock.

Tony’s crying out with each relentless thrust, and his hands are slipping on the tile. He dick is rocking underneath him, but Tony doesn’t trust himself to reach down and give himself relief without falling.

Bucky inexorably speeds up, and Tony sobs, realizing he’s pleading under his breath.

“Fuck, oh fuck—” Bucky finishes with a curse and a long moan, balls to Tony’s pelvis, and Tony feels himself being filled again. He takes the risk and pushes his hand between his legs, stroking himself vigorously as Bucky pumps another load into his ass.

He comes rights as Bucky pulls out, legs shaking as pleasure strikes through his abdomen and through his whole body. He stays like that, one hand on the wall, watching his cum mix with the water down the drain, then makes a small noise as he feels Bucky spread his ass again, not letting it close, and feels himself start to leak.

Tony feels like he’s been placed under a looking glass.

“Better,” Bucky says. “But I bet it can do more.” Tony swallows hard and slowly makes his way back to standing as Bucky turns and walks out of the shower stall, leaving Tony feeling wet and hot all over, all three men’s cum swirling down the shower drain.

Tony tidies up as much as he can and makes a stop in the bathroom before he heads to the kitchen for a real breakfast. He’s not thinking anymore—his body is just taking him places and he’s letting it, ignoring the fact that he still hadn’t figured out the nanoparticle problem and that his workout was cut short. It’s not a big deal; he’ll have time later.

He’s quickly derailed by the thought of breakfast when he walks in the elevator and Steve drops him to his knees. Tony opens his mouth with half lidded eyes and gags on it, and Steve uses him until he comes with a gasp down Tony’s throat. Steve gets off on a different floor—Tony didn’t even realize the elevator was going to ground floor instead of the third— and Tony has to tell JARVIS with a scratchy voice to take him to the common area.

He climbs to his feet when his floor arrives and more or less stumbles to the kitchen. As he steals some pizza from the fridge, he notices the signs of a delightful slowness tricking into his headspace, a feeling not unlike disassociation except that it floods him with warmth instead of cool, and it makes him stretch a small, easy smile across his face.

He’s not needed during his meal so he makes his way to his workshop in the basement where he’s able to work on his suit. The ebb and flow of ideas are slow but far from gone, and his ability to focus on one thing at a time is actually more enhanced.

He tackles his nanoparticle problem and feels close to a breakthrough before JARVIS gently reminds him of his conference call. He sighs and saves off on his work, and patches through the council of assholes that want to use the Avengers for bad things. It’s their monthly ‘we want to use the Avengers to support this effort which isn’t really in the government’s best interest but is in the best interest of the lobbyist giving me ten thousand dollars’ phone call. It’s a long title, and it’s also the perfect way to kill a good vibe.

The call begins, and things go as usual. Tony reports he’s here, mostly ignores everyone’s implications that he’s a waste of their time, denies making anymore weapons for the US government, and has JARVIS reverse the satellite uplink to plant more malware in their software to find out what shady things are going on behind the scenes.

It’s devolved into a yelling match between SECDEF and VPOTUS, and Tony has them on mute, when the elevator dings. Tony involuntarily relaxes when he hears Bucky and Steve’s voices chatting about something with each other. He knows better than to turn and say hello though, because that’s not the game.

Their conversation tapers off as they approach. Tony keeps eyes down to the desk. Two hands reach around the chair and under his armpits and lift him to standing, then push him over the desk. Tony’s hands catch his fall, but his cheek is mashed into the tabletop as two hands, one flesh and one metal, work down his pants.

“Pass me the lube, Stevie,” Bucky says from behind Tony’s back. Tony hears the sound of his pants hitting the floor; hears the sounds of Bucky undoing his buckle.

“Here.” There’s the sound of plastic against metal, then the snick of the cap.

“So, what. You really didn’t like it?” Steve asks. His voice is coming from Tony’s left, outside of his field of vision, probably in another desk chair watching Bucky with mild amusement, or flipping through his phone.

“I mean, it kinda felt derivative, I guess,” Bucky responds. He presses two lube covered fingers into Tony’s hole, and Tony moans quietly. Above their heads, the men continue to argue over the conference call, but now they feel far away, as if no conversation could ever be as important as the one the two men behind him were having.

“You thought that _ Star Wars _was derivative,” Steve says in a disbelieving tone.

“Yes, I did,” Bucky says. He’s working in the third now, and Tony’s panting into the worktop, feeling the slight soreness of his rim as his ass burns from the inside. “And it was!”

“Of what? And if you say Star Trek…” Steve says.

And they’re just talking like he’s not here, having a conversation he’d otherwise contribute to but instead they need him for his ass, and Bucky is working a fucking pinky alongside his other fingers nonchalantly, like he’s playing with a toy and trying to see how much he could get away with before it broke.

“Of itself! You saw the fourth one, how is the seventh one…”

Four fingers are currently fucking Tony’s ass, and Tony doesn’t even have the mental capacity to hold on to the conversation anymore, either of them. He’s feeling something beyond arousal now, feeling like he’s burning from the inside out, can barely hear himself gasp into the worktop anymore.

“Hey, you gonna get on with it, or what?” Steve says.

Bucky’s hand pauses in Tony’s ass, and Tony feels himself involuntarily squeeze around the fingers.

“Eh…” Bucky says, then Tony feels as he slowly starts to move his fingers in and out again. “Nah. Kinda just wanna keep my hand warm, ya know?”

Tony feels his thoughts cross over one another and cancel out, and he’s met with true silence in his head. All there is, is the ever expanding mass of Bucky’s fingers—and fuck he’s got his thumb in there now—

“That’s a hell of an ass,” Steve says with pride. “Look how much it’s taking, right now, you’re almost at the knuckle.”

“It’s beautiful,” Bucky says softly, and Tony sobs, because he’s _ beautiful. _

“Exactly,” Steve’s voice is much closer now, and Bucky’s hand pauses moving, and Tony hears the sound of the two men kissing behind him, kissing because of him…

Tony’s dizzy with warmth. He wants to beg Bucky to keep moving, but he knows that’s not the point. The point… The point is…

“Fuck…” Bucky breaths, then Tony hears a familiar wet sounds, the sound of a hand stroking a dick. Was Steve stroking his own? Was it Bucky? Was Steve on Bucky or Bucky on Steve?

“I want to see you come on our hole, baby,” Steve says, voice rough and low. “Mark him, own him.”

“Fuck, Steve…” Bucky moans.

Tony feels the fingers slip out, he whines, but otherwise remains silent as Bucky removes his hand until the fingertips remain, spreading him open wide, wide, wide, for both men to see.

“Jesus…” Steve whispers.

“Close.” Bucky bites out. “Ah… ah!” He shouts, then Tony feels as wetness stripes his asshole, his ass, inside and out.

“My turn,” Steve growls, and moments later Tony hears a grunt and feels his hole splashed again. Steve aims the head to just inside of Tony, so that most of his seed shoots inwards, and Tony can feel it, feel himself made a mess of, ruined and used by these two men that call him beautiful…

Tony comes back to himself a little while later, feeling stiff and sore and wet. He can barely walk at first, wobbling and stumbling over to the bathroom. On the way, he has JARVIS hang up the call—he has no idea what he’s missed, but it doesn’t matter right now. He nearly hits the 15 minute mark in the bathroom he’s so tired, but a gentle reminder from JARVIS pushes him back into gear. He can do this. Hestill has almost a whole day left, and if he wants to be willing and able - wherever his boys need him, he wants to be.

He walks over to his mini bar and chugs a bottle of water, then slips upstairs to eat again. He digs around the fridge and pulls out someone’s leftovers from something or other, a half a burger and fries. He warms them up and scarfs them down and decides, fuck it, the day is over.

Too tired for much else, he has JARVIS heat up the jacuzzi bath and drops lavender oil into it, then slips under the water and relaxes, soaking away his physical pain and basking in the satisfaction of having one job and being able to fulfill it. He closes his eyes and inhales lavender, feeling tiredness washing over him.

His eyes are still closed when he feels the dick against his lips, and he keeps his eyes shut as he opens his mouth wide.

Steve slides in and fills his mouth with salt and bitterness, and fucks his mouth shallowly until he starts to curse, stuttering his hips as he cums into Tony’s mouth.

Steve leaves, and Tony swallows every drop.

Tony crawls into bed, literally, at a very early 9:00. It probably would have been an amazing sleep, had it not been for the three fingers that had found their way into his ass around 1:00, quickly followed by what had to be Bucky, who fucks Tony through his delirium and shoots him into a new level of pleasure, driving his thick cockhead deep into his abused hole and slamming into his prostate with such vigor, the force of their movements jostle Tony enough to provide the friction on his cock he needs to cum into the sheets below.

That of course doesn’t stop Steve from taking his turn, pushing Tony so far into oversensitive he whites out - Steve still fucking, and finishing, like nothing has happened.

Tony doesn’t wake up alone the next morning. Steve and Bucky are both passed out shirtless on either side of their favorite toy, legs tangled with his and breathing heavy. Tony’s naked, but they keep him warm, and he snuggles close and goes back to sleep.

A shortwhile later, Tony opens his eyes to see Bucky sitting up against the headboard, hair tangled and stomach bare, tracing Tony’s lips with his cockhead. Tony opens wide and sticks out his tongue, and tastes Bucky’s cum in the back of his throat as his nose hits Bucky’s pelvis.

Tony spends the next four hours in an odd sort of half-dream, where he lazes in bed and stares at the ceiling without a thought in his mind. The boys eventually get up and get dressed, but he doesn’t move. He feels like a ragdoll, limbs insignificant, and he can’t seem to lose the smile on his face, worn and happy, drifting amongst the clouds without a care in the world.

Eventually, he asks JARVIS what’s on the calendar for today.

_ “Just a press conference at noon, but only your attendance is required, not your attention,” _JARVIS says, somehow aware of Tony’s state and able to say the right thing.

“Sounds good.” Tony feels uncharacteristically agreeable today. He rolls himself out of bed and dresses, taking a careful catalog of his body. His muscles aren’t too bad from his overzealous workout yesterday, and he doesn’t have a headache either. His ass is sore, but that’s nothing new.

He dresses for the press conference, putting on a nice suit and taking slow, sure care of his image in the mirror. He takes his time with his meal this morning as well, waiting for the drip coffee, actually going so far as to prepare himself something. Something simple, a sandwich, with meat and lettuce and cheese, and an extra piece of bread in the middle to keep it upright.

He opens a bag of chips someone left behind and brings the food to the communal table. He goes back to the kitchen to snag his coffee when he hears a small commotion from across the room

“—e have to go Bucky or we’re gonna be late,” Steve’s voice comes from down the hallway.

“Yeah, hold on, this’ll only take a minute,” Bucky says, and Tony watches as he walks towards him.

Tony wonders why he’s even bothering with pants anymore.

Bucky bends Tony over the counter and rips them in his haste to get them off. Two fingers slide in easily, and Bucky makes a triumphant noise as he pumps in a third. “Knew this ass would be getting loose,” Bucky says as he lines up, jostling Tony into a position where he can slide in comfortably.

Tony gasps as his sore hole is stretched open yet _ again, _but has to admit to himself, he is getting looser.

Bucky ruts like an animal, heavy moans and bitten off curses as he uses Tony, greedily, eagerly, like he just can’t bear not to have him, and like he has the right to take him whenever he wants.

Steve enters the kitchen with a frown on his face, which morphs into amusement as he catches what’s held Bucky up.

“Seriously?” Steve says, mirth in his tone.

“You’ve felt this thing—you know how hard it is too—oh _ fuck, _God—to stay away.”

Tony feels a whine escape the back of his throat. That’s really what he is, the perfect little ‘thing’ that Bucky and Steve can’t get enough of.

“Yeah Bucky, I know,” Steve sighs.

Bucky finishes a half-minute later, and dashes off with Steve with a single pat on Tony’s ass.

Tony wobbles to the table and eats his sandwich with a hole in the back of his seven hundred dollar slacks. JARVIS has to remind him to change before leaving.

The press conference doesn’t require anything of Tony—he just has to be there— which is why Tony’s not worried when he notices how slow his reaction time is, or how hard it is to make words. In fact, putting two thoughts together is becoming less and less of a possibility.

Tony really hopes, as he rides the elevator down to the limo in the garage, that he doesn’t have to say anything. He doesn’t think so.

The elevator arrives, and Tony meanders to the car. The chauffeur opens the door for him and he slides in, enjoying the way his ass feels sore against the leather cushions. He’s so busy squirming that it takes him a moment to realize he’s not alone. He blinks towards the other man in the car, and, despite everything, his mouth begins to water.

Steve’s sitting on the long seat, wearing a dark blue suit, cock standing tall against his dress shirt.

Tony swallows then moves like a magnet is drawing him in. Steve needs him.

When Tony gets within reaching distance, Steve hauls him up and puts him in his lap, dick leaking against another set of seven hundred dollar slacks.

Steve works his pants down and doesn’t even bother with fingers, just slides into Tony’s cum filled ass like it’s made for it, filling Tony, _ again _. Tony cries out, but there’s barely a tone left in his voice.

Once he’s fully seated, Steve knocks on the window and the driver takes off. Tony leans into Steve’s chest, and Steve’ hand wraps around his body to hold him in place.

Steve doesn’t move, but the car does. Tony’s never been more aware of each pothole in New York in his life. He makes small, pitchy whines with each bump, but Steve doesn’t so much as grunt, seemingly content with having Tony keep his cock warm.

Tony falls into a daze. At some point they get stuck in traffic, then another they are on a highway, but beyond that, time loses all meaning, giving way to pure, sweet sensation.

They eventually park, and Steve bends him over the seat and rocks the whole limo until he fills Tony up again, before tucking himself away and leaving Tony in the car.

Tony follows at a much, much slower pace, walking through the empty garage towards the underground entrance of the press conference area, making sure he looks at least passable before going through the doors.

A woman leads him to the green room, but walks away before he opens the door.

And it’s silly, he thinks, to think that he’s going to have a break, because when he walks in, the only other person there is Bucky, arms spread wide on the couch.

Minutes before he’s supposed to be on national television, Bucky bends him over the arm of the couch, moving the whole thing three feet to the left before he finishes, and he leaves him with his brain in another country.

Makeup arrives, and it’s a tribute to their professionalism that they write off whatever mess Tony looks like as him just being tired.

He’s escorted to the stage where he smiles and waves and smiles some more, before taking a seat at the table in front of a crowd of people and cameras. The woman in charge starts to speak, thanking the Avengers for something they did.

But Tony only notices that with part of his mind. The rest is distracted by the fact he can feel two men’s cum, dripping out of his ass.

And that doesn’t usually happen, usually he’s able to keep it in it he needs to, before he’s in a place where he can let it go, which means…

Which means he’s realizing, on live television, that his ass his been fucked open so often and so wide and so _ much _he can’t, he can’t even…

Someone else is saying something, and there’s more clapping, and Tony’s still smiling, but inside his mind is melting into a puddle over the fact his ass is leaking cum all through his silk Armani boxers and the world is looking at Tony Stark and not even realizing that he’s taken so much dick down his throat in the past day he’s probably lost his ability to speak, ass stretched so wide by two men’s cocks and one man’s _ fist, _ that he’s currently too loose to close up shop, and fuck, this is not a kink Tony thought he’d have, but being so close to the world realizing who he truly is? What he really is? Realizing that the great Tony Stark is property. An object that is used. A necessity, a piece of a routine. A _ hole _.

Tony can’t remember anything else that happens for the rest of that press conference. The next thing he remembers is crawling into the seat of the limo, Steve waiting for him in his navy blue suit.

But he’s frowning, and looking directly into Tony’s eyes, and that’s not the scene, that’s a warning sign.

“You were out of it more than we expected at the press conference,” Steve says. “Are you okay?”

Tony swallows, and tries to figure out how to get his voice to work, how to come down from the clouds.

Steve reaches out for him, but Tony shakes his head because touching means aftercare, and he’s not ready for this to end.

“I’m… I’m deep.” Tony slurs. “But good. You were—you were at the press conference?”

“Of course, Tony,” Steve says, with a small amount of surprise in his voice. “We’ve been watching you this whole time,” Steve says. “We’d never let you be alone like this.”

Fuck—they—the whole time? Tony’s whole body shivers, and despite himself, he feels a rush of arousal shoot down his spine. They were watching him. Steve and Bucky. Always.

“Keep going,” Tony says confidently. “I’m good.”

Steve expression tightens, then smooths and he nods. No preamble, he unzips his pants and pulls out his cock.

He’s soft, but that’s what Tony’s mouth is for, isn’t it?

Tony only has the energy for a bathroom break before he just…gives in. He doesn’t even try to clean himself up. There’s no one else in the compound, just them. He ends up collapsing on the couch in their room, feeling like he’s no longer a real person. He stays there and doesn’t move, letting the sheer force of everything take him away. He knows they’re watching, knows he’s safe, and that’s what it takes for him to finally, finally let go.

Voices enter their room. Bucky and Steve. They don’t need him now, stripping out of their suits and laughing and joking about things Tony doesn’t have the minds to care about. They spend some time on the other side of the room doing who knows what. It doesn’t matter to Tony; it only matters that he’s ready when they need him.

And they do eventually need him. Bucky wanders over first, pulling off Tony’s clothes and positioning on his hands and knees on the carpet in front of the couch. Tony can feel his eyes on his ass.

“Christ,” Bucky says. He pushes three fingers into Tony’s ass like it’s nothing. “We got this ass so wide…”

“Why are you always so obsessed with stretching our hole out? Don’t you like a little tightness?” Steve’s voice rumbles from across the room.

“I do, and I know it’ll snap back. I just love seeing how much it can take, you know? It’s amazing.” Bucky commends.

Steve makes his way over to the couch and sits down with a sigh. “Sure is,” he says. Tony feels two heavy thumps as Steve rests his legs on Tony’s back, leaning back into the couch with a sigh.

Bucky gets bored of prodding after a while and replaces his fingers with his cock.

“Would you not rock him so much?” Steve says, annoyed at the way he’s Bucky’s moving his feet back and forth.

“Give me five minutes,” Bucky says, with a grunt.

Steve snorts and drops his feet. “You’re only gonna need one.”

“Asshole, I bet I can last longer than you,” Bucky says, slowing his pace to challenge the other man

“You know what? I’ll take that bet,” Steve grins. He drops to his knees in front of Tony’s face, and Tony’s mouth falls open. Steve’s pants hit the ground and he strokes himself to full hardness. “Ready?” He says, putting the head against Tony’s tongue.

“Go!” Bucky shouts, and they were off.

Steve wins, but Bucky blames it on the fact he got and early start _ and _that he was in the ass, so they wash up and switch sides. Steve wins again, but by a much more narrow margin, and they’re too exhausted to argue about it, instead opting to head to bed early. It had been a long, long day.

Bucky picks Tony up and wraps him in a blanket to keep him warm. He places him on the bed, where Steve is already lying down. Steve pulls down his pajama pants and guides Tony’s mouth onto his cock. Tony sucks lightly, just enough to keep himself from drooling. Steve grabs a book and opens it to the marked page, resting the spine of it gently against Tony’s face and dives back into a good book, as Bucky flips on the TV next to him.

And Tony feels truly and properly used. But not in the sense that he’s being taken advantage of then tossed aside. No, it’s more like he’s someone’s a favorite sweater, worn too often, washed too much, mended and broken and mended again, but only providing more comfort, and sharing more love as time goes on.

Steve and Bucky jolt back to reality at the sound of a gentle chime.

_ “It is now 8 PM. Sir is closed for business,” _JARVIS’s voice rings out across the room.

Steve looks up at the ceiling for a moment—an old habit that Tony still makes fun of him for—then looks at Bucky, who’s staring at Steve, blinking.

They turn to Tony at the same time. Steve cradles his face gently in his hands, pulling his cock from his mouth, while Bucky gently untangles him from the blanket. His eyes are shut, though Steve’s not sure if he’s asleep or now. He’s been still for about an hour now.

“Hey baby, can you wake up?” Steve asks. A little bit of shaking from Bucky and Tony’s eyes flutter open. He doesn’t quite meet Steve’s eyes, but a smile rolls over his face.

“Come on sweet thing,” Bucky murmurs, leaning over Tony’s side. “Were all done. You did it. You fucking _ did it.” _Bucky has a note of disbelief in his voice, and Steve looks up to share a wide eyed look with him.

“You did it.” Steve agrees. “Baby, 36 hours, you did it. But the doors are closed now, Black Friday is over.” Steve bends over and kisses his forehead, before tilting Tony’s head upwards. Tony’s eyes are lidded and he’s staring into space, like Steve’s not even there.

Steve looks at Bucky, and notices that his face is pinched in worry.

“He’s deep,” Steve says softly, immediately taking charge. “Let’s do what we usually do, and take it slow,” he says. Bucky nods, biting his lip.

They shuffle around the bed, Bucky rolling off towards the bathroom, Steve moving to pick Tony up in his arms. When he does, reflexively rolls into him, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder and wrapping his arms around Steve’s neck, making himself small. Steve carefully cradles his head.

“Bucky’s gonna run you a bath baby, just how you like.” Steve murmurs, carrying him to the bathroom. “We’re gonna take care of you. Wash your hair with your favorite soap, light some candles, the whole nine yards.”

Tony’s eyes had fallen shut again by the time they’d reached the bathroom. He feels so very heavy and so very light at the same time, his mind fuzzing amongst the clouds even as his limbs feel like they are made of lead.

“Come here sweetheart,” Bucky says. Steve passes him off to Bucky, who sits him on the edge of the bathtub with more gentleness and care than he’d thought he’d have. The water is hot against Tony’s feet, and causes a shiver to ripple up the rest of his body.

“Where’s the--”

“On the counter,” Bucky says, kissing the line of Tony’s neck as he supports his loose limbs. “You’re amazing,” he whispers into Tony’s skin, and that tingles, too.

Steve swipes the container of coconut oil from the counter, gathering a healthy amount on his fingertips. “Lift up, baby,” Steve murmurs.

The idea of moving on his own seems impossible at the moment, the weight of his physical much too much, but Steve was asking, so Tony takes a deep breath and tries, struggling to his feet. It feels like the hardest things he’d ever had to do in his life, lifting a few inches off the side of the bathtub.

“Good boy,” Steve says, taking care to humanize him again. Steve reaches underneath Tony’s body with the slick fingers and finds his hole, then carefully presses in. He finds very little resistance, so little his fingers slide all the way with nothing but a small moan from the back of Tony’s throat. He turns to Bucky and swallows hard. “Ok,” he says. “I get it, that’s pretty hot.”

Bucky grins.

Tony starts to move his hips, back and forth, trying to fuck himself on Steve’s fingers. Bucky, whose hands have yet to leave Tony’s skin, quickly stills him, making a small shushing noise.

“Steve’s just making sure you’re not hurt, Tony.” Bucky says, as Steve gently applies the oil as deep as he can. “The games over, you’re closed, it’s time for you to come back.”

Tony makes no sign of having heard Bucky, but stops moving his hips, letting Steve work until he’s satisfied. 

“Is he going to be okay in the water?” Bucky asks Steve. His hand is stroking up and down Tony’s spine, and Tony feels some of the weight of his body ease off with each movement. This routine feels familiar.

“He is,” Steve says in the most assured voice he can manage. Bucky doesn’t like it when Tony is nonverbal, even though he knows how much Tony needs it. “I promise. We’ll stay here with him.”

“I’m getting in with him,” Bucky decides. “Hold him up while I take off my clothes.

Steve nods, grabbing one of Tony’s shoulders in each hand. He reaches under Tony’s chin and tilts his head up. Thier eyes meet, and the moment suspends itself in time. Steve’s face softens, and Tony smiles, his eyes glossy and slow.

“Here,” Bucky says. He’s stepped into the tub and is reaching out for Tony. Steve tilts Tony’s head back forward.

“Go to him,” Steve says.

Tony nods. It seems like it takes him hours, but he finally manages to lift himself up and take a stuttering step forwards, before simply falling into Bucky’s arms. Bucky holds the man in his arms securely and eases him down to the water, gently sitting him down in the warm bath.

Tony feels the heat seep into his muscles, and moans gratefully as he sinks as far under the water as Bucky would allow. He inhales and catches the scent of lavender, and smiles to himself. He loves lavender. He turns to see a naked Steve stepping in the water next to him--it’s luck he made this tub so wide--and slide an arm around Tony’s waist as Bucky wraps another around his shoulders, and he sits, and trickles back down.

Steve reaches for the shampoo, and he starts to work it into Tony’s hair, talking as he goes. “Fuck Tony, you’re so amazing. I have no idea how you do what you do. Do you know how many times we had sex with you? What, 14? If we count the fisting thing…” Steve trails off absently, scratching Tony’s head.

“Damn, we really did fist him, huh,” Bucky says, disbelieving. “And spit roasting should count for two.”

“16 times? Wow baby, how do you do it?” Steve’s a supersoldier, and he didn't think he can do that.

Tony arches into Steve’s scratching fingers and shuts his eyes like a cat. Bucky marvels at the fact he lets them see him like this. “You’re beautiful like this,” Bucky says. “So sweet, babydoll.”

“Mmm…” Tony says. The fingers in his hair feel really, really good, and he’s beautiful.

“Incredible.”

“Gorgeous.”

“So strong…”

“So good.”

“You’re absolutely perfect,” Steve says, working on conditioner now. Bucky’s just holding him as close as he can. It’s working--Tony feels himself landing like a feather in a field, so soft and delicate, he could cry.

Steve looks at the two men next to him, watching Tony cuddle Bucky as he works, and knows that he’s beyond lucky with everything he has. He has to admit, they were overzealous in the beginning of the scene, considering how they slept through the last few hours of ‘Black Friday,’ but Steve already has ideas for next time.

They finishing cleaning Tony up and lead him out of the tub. Tony feels like he can move his feet again, and shuffles into the outstretched towel, letting himself to be dried off.

Rarely, Steve thinks, does get the ability to take care of Tony like this. Rubbing the towel through his hair, over his skin, down his legs and back up again. “Good boy, being so still,” Steve says.

Tony looks dead on his feet now, and Steve certainly feels the same way. “Come on,” Bucky says, “let’s head to bed.”

Bucky wants to carry him this time, but Steve says better to let him walk. Tony does, and finds it much easier to stay focused than before. He’s given pajamas, and spends some time slipping into them, stepping into the pants and nearly falling over himself. And suddenly, he lets out a giggle.

Steve blinks in surprise at the noise.

“Something funny, sugar?” Bucky asks, hands poised as if he’s ready to catch Tony if he fell again.

Tony laughs quietly. “‘M just wonderin’...” Tony swallows, trying to wet his throat. “How many pairs of pants… you guys ruined.” He manages to get his pants up his body at last.

Bucky snorts, then gives in and starts to laugh.

“I think I really like seeing you in ripped clothes,” Steve says, slightly sheepish. They reach the bed, and Tony falls into it, crawling towards the top.

“Cavemen.” Tony murmurs into the pillow. He can barely keep his eyes open anymore, and nothing sounds better than sinking into the bed and falling into oblivion.

“Yeah, maybe,” Bucky says, climbing in next to him. “But only ‘cause you make us so wild.”

“That was bad, even for you,” Steve joins them on the other side. “Lights out JARVIS.

“How ‘bout this,” Bucky says with a smirk as Tony starts to snore into his pillow. “Get anything good on Black Friday this year?”

Steve laughs, wrapping a hand around Tony’s body to reach for Bucky’s, sandwiching Tony between the two of them. “Hell yeah,” Steve says, then kisses the back of Tony’s head before falling into a long, well needed rest.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm so sorry. come yell at me on [tumblr](https://bourneblack.tumblr.com)


End file.
